Rain and Snow
by Prism Elf
Summary: Something dark and sinister sleeps beneath the city of Kirkwall. What awaits beneath the city could change the Grey Wardens forever. Written for Dragon Age Big Bang!
1. Prelude

**Prelude**

Zevran pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. A light rain was starting to fall, damping his shirt and hair. It was always raining it seemed. Cold and wet were the two words used to describe Ferelden perfectly. That and the smell like dogs. He wasn't certain when he would get used to the climate.

"No, Wilhelm, no," Nathaniel Howe said with the same exasperation that Zevran was feeling. "You've stepped too far with your right foot, your balance is off. Try again. Bree, step a bit more to your left your stance isn't wide enough. Collin, your hold is too tight and Mason your hold is too loose."

Four new recruits had come wanting to join the Grey Wardens in Armanthine. Zevran and Nathaniel were in charge of train all new recruits. Of the ten that the Commander had recruited these four were the only ones to make it past the Joining. It was getting harder and harder for Lyna to find willing volunteers. Zevran had caught her pacing in her office numerous times looking over papers of potential candidates for recruitment, all volunteers were taken, but when the volunteers ran out she would need more men. She was looking into minor criminals and city elves first. Many nobles in the Ban weren't fond of the Grey Wardens and were actively seeking to undermine and deter people from joining their ranks.

Zevran did not envy Lyna Marahiel in the least. Her job as Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden wasn't easy. And to make matters even more difficult she helped with negotiations with the Dalish and the King of Ferelden. Between the land settlements and trade negotiations along with threats coming in from the Chantry, Lyna had more than enough to worry about.

"Huh, they look like a bunch of virgin brontos trying to hump each other for the first time." A gruff deep voice stated from behind Zevran. Canting his head to the side he could see a bright red bearded dwarf in chainmail coming up to stand next to him. The dwarf leaned his thick arms on the middle railing of the fence in which Zevran was leaning across.

"Ha-ha, an apt and very astute observation, my friend." Zevran smiled down at the dwarf. "But give them time and experience even virgins can become whores."

Oghren chortled. "Yeah, but even then they aren't necessarily good at it and they aren't likely to get people killed while doing it either."

"Then you've never been with an Antivia whore, because, well, that's been known to happen."

"Nate's looks like he's ready to explode." Oghren nodded his head in the direction of the black haired archer. Nathaniel's normally pale skin was red as he grabbed Collin, a young human around eighteen years of age, hands and placed them none to gently on the training staff.

"You're going to break your hands if you don't hold them a certain points. You need enough room in the middle to bock someone's attack. Too close together and you're going to get hit. Try again." Nathaniel spoke quietly and through clenched teeth.

"Does it surprise you that he's frustrated? Not many women around and a handful of grass green recruits that can barely tell you which end of a sword goes were." Zevran straightened up and crossed his arms, watching the recruits going through their forms once again. Nathanial trained them in the basics, he would have them once they passed the basics. None of them as of yet showed promise, but things could change with time.

"So, elf, when's the Commander due back?"

Zevran looked down at Oghren. "Why?"

The dwarf shrugged his shoulders as he continued to watch the training. Nathaniel had stopped the trainees once again as he adjusted Bree's stance again. Bree was the only woman to pass the Joining, the other one had died. "I wanted to know what she had planned for me. Wanted to go see the wife and kid for a while."

Zevran shook his head. Grey Wardens were supposed to cut all ties with their life before their Joining, but Lyna had been strangely pushing Oghren toward his. The former Crow wasn't certain, but he was pretty certain that Lyna thought Oghren had joined the Grey Wardens too hastily. The dwarf was known to be a bit reckless and bullheaded about things.

"You're little one has a birthday coming up soon, doesn't she?" Zevran inquired.

Oghren nodded. "That she does. Felsi said the only thing my girl wants is to see her father." Oghren chuckled. "Never thought…" He trailed off and looked sharply up at Zevran. "Don't get telling the Commander though, I don't want her making special arrangements for me."

"The thought never crossed my mind."

"Sure it didn't, elf."

Zevran uncrossed his arms, placing his hands dramatically over his heart. "You wound me so, my friend, to think so little of me."

"Don't even start." Oghren growled. "Your antics are…"

"Charming? Endearing?"

"A pain in my ass."

"Oh! Well, if we are going that route."

"Bah, forget I mentioned anything to you. I know well enough that you'll tell the first chance you get."

Zevran shook his head and laughed as the dwarf pushed away from the fence started away. "Oh now come then, I'll get you a drink. That will cheer you up."

Oghren grumbled something under his breath about elves and their mothers what they could do with each other. Zevran smiled broadened as he clapped the dwarf on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Lyna will be back in a couple of days, at least according to her last letter. You'll be able to talk to her then. I'm certain she'll let you go without complaint. She'll probably want to go too, which means she'll drag me with her." He tossed the dwarf a friendly wink. "Not that I won't mind being drug around by her, but it does get quite messy."

They entered the main hall. The room hadn't been changed since Lyna first took the position of Commander. A few more banners were hung up representing noble families who had a son or daughter that had joined up with the Wardens, but mostly the heraldry was the blue and gray marked with a griffin of the Grey Wardens. At the far end of the hall was a dais in which Lyna conducted business. On either side of the dais were two doors, the door to the right led to the sleeping quarters, medical wing, laboratory, library, and common dining room of the Wardens. Through the left door was the meeting room, ceremony chamber and banquet hall. Oghren and Zevran headed for the right door. As they walked through a slim young dwarf woman pushed her way pass them.

"Sorry boys, in a hurry," Sigrun said slipping by them.

"Where you off to with such vigor?" Oghren asked watching the young dwarven woman's backside.

"Something's happened with the transfer of Grey Wardens to the Free Marches." Sigrun replied holding the door aloft. "I need to speak with Nathaniel immediately.

"The Free Marches?" Zevran asked.

"Yes, the Commander approved a transfer of a couple of Wardens from this outpost to the Free Marches outpost a couple weeks back. Something's gone wrong. They were attacked. Anders and Justice are missing. All but a few of the Wardens were killed. Those that are alive are injured." Sigrun explained. "I have to speak with Nathaniel." She pushed through the door and hurried off.

Oghren raised an eyebrow at Zevran. The elf shrugged. "Not much to be done about it. Lyna left Nathaniel in charge while she was away."

"I didn't think meeting with the pike-twirler would take this long." Oghren pointed out as they continued down the hall toward the mess hall at the far end.

"She wrote that negotiations were being held up because members of the Chantry had found supporters amongst the nobility to keep the Dalish from getting their rightful lands." Zevran supplied as he pushed open the dining room door.

Oghren snorted. "Boot-licking, nug humping politicians. Bet the Commander longs for the days of hunting in the woods to catch her next meal when dealing with those types."

Zevran sighed and headed for a large keg and tap set up at the other end of the room. "That she does, my friend. That she does."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Seven years later….**

The dwarf sighed and scratched his red head. This was taking forever. He glanced up at the female elf standing next to him. His former Commander was chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyes darted left and right watching the other occupants of the common room. The Hanged Man was busy. Oghren really wanted a drink watching the people of Kirkwall sloughing back watered down ale mug after mug. Oghren licked his lips and scratched his head again.

"Can't I have at least one drink?" He asked his voice sounded pitiful even to him.

Lyna look down at him. Her bright blue eyes were thoughtful and her silvery tattoos twisted eerily in the common room's fire light. "No," She stated simply before returning her gaze to the room.

Oghren huffed puffing out his chest he crossed his arms. "But the little pike twirler's fine. He's a big boy can handle himself."

"This isn't king's business we're doing here, Oghren." She reminded him.

"Yes, yes, I know, I know. Grey Warden business." He grumbled watching the serving wench waggle by with a swish of her hips and a platter full of foamy, dripping ale. He licked his lips again. "But one drink isn't going to hurt, Lyna. Just wet my whistle."

Lyna shook her head. "I said, no. We need all of our wits about us."

"We're in a tavern! Soddin' ancestors, I want a drink, woman, and I plan on getting one!" He roared pushing himself away from the wall and heading over to the bar. He hopped up onto the bar stool and slapped his hand down on the bar's countertop. "Barkeep, I want the strongest whiskey you've got. Not a shot, you nug-humper, just set the whole soddin bottle down."

"Oghren!" Lyna hissed from behind him.

"Oh soddin it all, woman, just sit down and have a drink as well. You can't pretend that you're not worried and stressed about all these secret meetings and that former Crow you runt around with isn't hiding in the city from his former associates." Oghren stated taking a swig from the whiskey bottle.

Lyna snorted and sat down next to him. "Zevran can take of himself."

"You say that like you aren't worried. Been practicing?" Oghren took another drink. The whiskey was horrid without any actual flavor or burning. "Nug piss." He muttered looking at the bottle's label expecting it to say just that.

"I haven't been practicing. I know it's true. He's got a plan."

"A plan in which involves your Dalish clan and using himself as bait. Come on, admit it, woman, you're worried." Oghren knew she was. He could see it in his fellow Warden's eyes. Her blue eyes didn't tell him much, but the little wrinkles around the edges that appeared whenever Zevran's name came up or Grey Wardens secret meetings were mentioned.

"I'll admit I'm a little worried about him and the Clan. I don't know what the Crows have planned. But using himself as bait." She rolled her eyes and took the bottle from Oghren examining the label before taking a small sip. She made a face and sputtered as she swallowed the awful liquid.

"Horrid ain't it?" Oghren asked chuckling as she thrust the bottle back into his hands.

Lyna nodded and running her tongue over her teeth. "Awful. Definitely not Junar's wine that's for certain."

"Who?" Oghren inquired taking another swig. Awful or not he didn't intend to waste any of it.

"He was a leth…friend of mine back in the Clan. Made wine from berries. Some of it was horrible and some of it was pretty good." Lyna answered leaning her arms on the bar. Her eyes distant like she was reliving memories. Oghren continued to drink and watched her.

"Do you ever miss being in Orzammar?" Lyna asked suddenly. Oghren almost spit his drink out. Almost.

"Nope, bunch of nug lovers that didn't know their own asses from shields. Huh, I've had more fun running around with you and the Wardens these past few years than I ever did in that dung heap of a city."

"But didn't you have friends? Family?"

Oghren shook his head. "Nope, nothin."

Lyna sighed and traced a craving of some type of rune that was etched into the counter top. "I miss them sometimes."

Oghren sighed and placed the bottle down. "Why are you telling me this? Don't tell me that one little sip of whiskey went right to your brain."

"No, it just that I'm tired of the meetings and secrets. I'm tired of running around. I stopped the Blight shouldn't that be something. Aren't I entitled to a little peace and quiet before my Calling comes." Lyna looked down at the marking on the surface in which she had been tracing. She stopped and then slammed her fist down. "I don't mind being a Grey Warden, most of the time, but at times its trying."

"What I'm hearing is that you would rather be helping your former Crow than sitting here waiting for the pike-twirler and the Wardens of the Free Marches to show up. And it's making you nervous that Alistair has been up upstairs in his room for the last half hour talking to a _representative_ from the Chantry and the Mage Circle here in Kirkwall." Oghren poked the bottle of whiskey with a stubby finger. "You would rather be chasing down those Crow bastards that almost killed your man."

Lyna's eyes darkened to almost black. She looked at her clenched fist and nodded. "I would give anything to put an arrow through their gullets." She growled.

Oghren nodded. "Don't worry, the elf is cunning. He'll be fine. He was just getting a little soft around the edges these past few years, but he's a quick one." Oghren didn't normally show signs of sympathy, but in this case he could understand. Zevran had been ambushed a coupled months ago by the Crows. He had been completely caught unaware. It had the taken the former assassin the better part of five years to stop being paranoid and just relax even around Lyna. The Dalish Warden was patient and understanding. Oghren had been amazed at the transformation in the former Crow whenever Lyna Marahiel was around. Zevran became focused and driven in his need to keep her close and safe. He wasn't overprotective, but he was cautious.

"He'll be all right," Oghren stated flatly. If anything the elf knew how to take care of himself. It was the one thing he seemed lucky enough to manage his way out of trouble time and time again. He would get lucky again. Oghren didn't really sense that it was the elf's time. There was no precursor chill running along his spine.

"I hope you're right." Was all Lyna said as she went back to tracing the craving on the countertop.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"It'll be fun!" Isabela exclaimed leaning across the table and sliding the map across the table towards Varric giving him a full view of her particular assets. "Imagine the possibilities. Gold, jewels, exotic beauties," The pirate cooed. "All those lovelies just waiting to be plucked."

"Have you gone daft?" Varric asked sitting back and observing the pirate with a keen eye. He wasn't a fool. Isabel had just gotten a new ship. She wanted to test it out. He could see it in the pirate's eye as she talked about treasure and sailing, Isabel was getting stir crazy. She was tired of waiting around Kirkwall for adventure to find them. This time she wanted to be in control of her own course for once.

"No, I haven't gone mad. I'm bored." Pouted the pirate. She sat back and drained her mug of ale. "I'm bored and I have a ship and crew again."

"You only have that crew and ship thanks to Hawke." Fenris pointed out as he sat down at the table.

Isabel shot him a winning smile. "Oh, I know I owe Hawke a lot. This would be a great way to pay her back. Don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" The white haired elf asked, crossing his arms over his armored chest.

"Well, Hawke's done so much for us wouldn't it be nice to give something back to her?" purred Isabel.

"What are you driving at? Hawke has plenty of money, she doesn't want nor need anymore." Fenris supplied.

"Yes, well, that's not the point. Wouldn't it be fun to get her something unique? Something she doesn't already own? Something she can't buy at the market or from a stall vendor. Think on it. Is all I'm saying," Isabel winked at the elf.

Fenris sighed and shook his shaggy head. "I might be in, but not to repay Hawke. I have my own expenses to take care of."

Varric didn't miss the hint of anger in the elf's voice. "What's wrong, elf?"

Fenris fixed his eyes on Varric and rolled them turning his head he raised an arm to signal the bar wench.

"Oh, he's mad at Hawke for flirting with Zevran." Isabel supplied leaning to rest her booted feet on the table.

Fenris shot her a glare that would have frozen blood of the nearest rage demon. "Hey, don't get all bent out of shape about it. It isn't like you two are together and Zevran's like that." Isabel stated folding her hands on her stomach. "He's a flirt. Besides you saw he turned her and me down."

"Wait," Varric held up a hand, "Back up, Izzy, what are you talking about?"

Isabela shrugged and regaled him with the tale of how Hawke had enlisted her, Merrill, and Fenris into helping out an old 'friend' of hers. Varric listened intently. During the story the bar wench brought Fenris his order and the elf drained the mug just as Isabel was getting to the part about Hawke teasing and flirting with the elven assassin.

Once Isabel was finished she stretched her arms above her head and yawned. "And that's that. Zevran went back to the Dalish camp and we came back to Kirkwall."

"So you and this Zevran had relations, Rivanni?"

The pirate nodded and dropped her arms down. "Oh, we had more than that. He helped me kill my bastard husband and take over his ship. Oh, those were the good old days."

"Is there anyone you having had relations with?" Fenris teased her.

"Well, the two of you sitting here." She smiled at both of them.

Fenris eyed the pirate up and down taking in her bountiful chest and long legs. Varric rolled his eyes. "Don't even be tempted, elf. Hawke would burn you to a crisp."

"Hawke, doesn't care." Fenris snapped at the dwarf.

"Probably because you don't seem too." Varric lashed back. He wasn't about to watch either one of his friends hurt the other especially over simple words. "You know Hawke, she likes to flirt, but she's never acted on any of those thoughts."

"How do you know?"

"Because Hawke just isn't that kind of person. She's sensible and it's obivious to everyone at this table that Hawke's been waiting for you to make the next move. There are not too many people in this world that would wait on some one for three years to make up their minds. Hawke is one of the few." Varric spat and looked over to the barkeep. He raised his hand to him and the bar keep nodded. He needed a drink.

Fenris sat in brooding silence. Varric knew the elf had no words. Because he knew it was true. Hawke was waiting on him. It was his own fault if he was too stubborn or stupid to figure it out.

"Uhh, is this a bad time." A quiet chirpy voice asked. Varric glanced up to see Merrill standing there watching with her wide red rimmed eyes. Her face was pale and she was twisting her fingers into knots.

"No, Daisy, not at all. Fenris was being Fenris." Varric kicked a chair out for her. "Sit down. Have a drink, it's on me."

"Okay, thanks, Varric." Merrill sat down between him and Isabel. She looked upset like she had been crying.

"What's the matter, sweet thing?" Isabel asked as the bar wench brought over Varric and Fenris' drinks then went to go get one for Merrill.

"I've done something horrible. My Clan…" tears burst from her eyes and she covered her face with her hands, heavy sobs wracking her lithe frame.

Isabel sat up dropping her feet from the table. The pirate placed an arm around the elven blood mage. "Hey, it can't be that bad." The pirate cooed.

"That's right, Daisy, what happened? You step on an ant on your way here." Varric asked patting the slender elf on her delicate shoulder.

Merrill shook her head. "No, no, no," She dropped her hands and sniffled wiping a hand across her eyes and nose. "That stupid mirror! Hawke was right, I should never have messed with it. I should have left it alone. But instead I…my Keeper is dead. I killed her." Merrill wailed and flung her arms and head down on the table.

Fenris shot her a withering look. "You seem surprised. Hawke warned you that your magic came with a price."

"I didn't think someone else would have to pay it." Isabel squeezed Merrill's shoulders.

"It's all right, kitten."

"No, you don't understand. The Clan hates me. They're leaving." She picked her head up and tried futilely to wipe her eyes again. "But that's not the worst of it. That elf that we helped, Isabel." Merrill became serious suddenly. "He knows Marahariel. I thought I saw her here in town the another day if Marahariel learns what I did…" Merrill shuddered and looked down at the ground.

"We won't let anything happen to you. I know the Warden, she isn't like that." Isabel stated coolly. "She isn't the cause bodily harm type."

Merrill was shaking her head. "You don't know her like I do. She used to get into trouble a lot. Her and Tamlen were constantly causing problems and fighting with others. Lyna's going to kill me. She liked the Keeper and the Keeper liked her for as much trouble as she got into."

"You don't know that." Varric tried to soothe her, be the upbeat elf seemed beyond consoling.

"Well, I have just the thing to cheer you up and to get you away from Kirkwall for awhile." Isabel stated wrapping an arm around the elf's slender shoulders.

Merrill removed her head from her hands and stared at the pirate. "What?"

"See, I have a map. It's a treasure map, sweet thing."

"Oh, Rivanni, right now isn't the best time," Varric started, but the pirate waved a hand at him.

"It's the best time, Varric. If she's worried about the Hero of Ferelden then leaving might be just what she needs." Isabel supplied.

"When has running ever worked for anyone at this table?" Varric voiced, glancing around at everyone. Merrill peeked up at him. Isabela pointed looked at Fenris. The elf shrugged, avoiding Varric's gaze as well. Varric snorted. "Thought as much." They all remembered to many times were running had put them in a worst dilemma than if they had just faced their problems. Varric was guilty of it himself.

"But what am I going to do?" Merrill squeaked as she wiped at the tear-streaks on her pale tattooed cheeks.

Sighing sat back and lifted his mug of ale to his lips. He took a long pull before setting it down. "Well, daisy, best that she hears it from you than her finding out on her own."

Merrill canted her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "She'll never forgive me."

"Maybe not, but that's part of the consequences of the choices you've made. We all have to face them sooner or later." Varric pointedly looked at the other elf sitting at the table. Fenris continued to watch the bar, but he noticed the elf's eye twitch at his words. _Good, maybe he'll go talk to Hawke._

Merrill blinked, tears filling her eyes again. "I don't know that I can."

Varric sighed. "Well, daisy, that's up to you."

"Ah, come on, Varric, don't be that way." Isabel purred wrapping her arm around the elf girl's slender shoulders and squeezing. "She's devastated."

"You wouldn't have a problem telling Lyna, would you, Isabela? See that's something I've always admired about you. You're so confident and strong even in the face of despair." Merrill said wiping a hand across her eyes.

"Oh, kitten, I don't know that I could. I think of it this way, I also ran away from Hawke with the book to save my own skin all those years ago. I know what it's like to run away. I'm probably not the best person to give advice on this topic." The pirate stated slipping into her seat again. Her arm slid away from Merrill's shoulders.

Fenris snorted and turned to face the rest of the table. "You talk about facing this Hero of Ferelden like she is a high dragon."

Merrill looked at Fenris sharply as Isabela barked out a quick laugh. "You wouldn't be far from the truth. She did slay the Archdemon that led the Blight in Ferelden. She's a quick one. Not one I would want to meet in a dark back alley."

Merrill paled and then groaned. "She's worse than that. Did you know she use to get into fights with other hunters? She used to cause so many problems, but everyone loved her. She could be nice when she wanted to be."

"So maybe you don't have much to worry about." Varric adventured just as the elf shook her head.

"No, Lyna was loyal to the clan. She only left because of her sickness which caused her to join the Grey Wardens.' Merrill looked down at the table her hands slipped from her face. She picked at the wood grains with a finger.

"She's not really going to kill you." Varric said, guessing that the Hero of Ferelden wasn't that cold hearted.

"I don't know. She's been bedding an assassin. She might have picked up a few tricks and quirks we don't know about." Isabela teased winking at Merrill.

Merrill groaned again and rested her forehead on the table. "I'm a dead elf. That's it. I'm a dead elf."

Varric shot the pirate a pointed look. "Don't worry, daisy, I don't think it's going to be as bad as that."

Merrill shook her head. "I'm dead, so dead."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Zevran didn't normally pace, but tonight he was. The thread bare rug under his feet was thinner by the minute. Lyna should have been back. If something had happened to her…

He didn't finish the thought, he couldn't finish the thought. Lyna could take care of herself. She was more than capable. But that didn't stop him from worrying about her. It didn't help that the news he bore was dire. He didn't want to tell her about her clan. About the Keeper of her clan being dead, but he would.

"If she ever returns." He muttered turning once again. Rain pattered on the window of the room beating out a rhythm with no particular pattern. It was always raining in Ferelden. He was used to rain now, but this was a colder rain than that of Ferelden's rains. A chill set in the air. Sending a cascading shiver down his spine. The small hearth in their room lent little to no heat.

He sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. What he wouldn't give to wrap his arms around Lyna's naked form to stave off the cold. An impish smile danced on his lips as he thought about kissing her and running his hands over her. Her touch was fire in itself setting him a light. His breath hitched and he growled frustrated.

"Dammit, Lyna." He swore.

He was ready to run into the freezing rain to look for her. He had spent three nights away from her. Three nights he had stayed with her Dalish clan waiting for those bastard Crows to find someone to track him down. Their cowardliness driving them to use other means to kill him. He was just glad that the Champion of Kirkwall had been such an understanding individual. It had helped that three of her four companions had vouched for him as a companion of the Hero of Ferelden.

He smiled as he remembered Isabela's tempting offer. Sex with Isabela was exciting and unpredictable. One never quite knew what they were getting with Isabela, figuratively and literally. She was a pirate and he had been an assassin hired to kill her husband. It had been fun, but that's all it had been. She hadn't stirred something in him. Oh certainly, she had lit a fire in loins that had drove him crazy with desire, but that was it. Pure simple lust. He knew this now and he suspected that Isabela knew it too. They were too alike in their mindsets to have been anything more. They would have ran away from each other at the first sight of something more. That's simply what they did. It was how people like them survived. No, he didn't regret not taking Isabela up on her offer. It would have been a mere fling a moment of desire and pleasure that would have quickly passed. While it would have been glorious in the moment afterward he would never be able to look Lyna in the eye again. She might have forgiven him. She was that type of person, but he wasn't certain he could break that trust to her. He had made a promise, a vow to her. He would try his damnest to keep it. Even if it meant pacing a small miserable cold room by himself.

The door creaked. Zevran spun-daggers out and poised before he could stop himself. Lyna stood in front of the closed door watching him. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with merriment as she stared at him. She didn't flinch or move waiting for him to relax first. He sighed and lowered his weapons placing them back into their sheaths.

"Lyna, sweet, you should be more careful."

She smiled at him the skin around her eyes crinkling slightly. "You haven't been on edge like this in a while." She eyed up as she unclasped her sopping wet cloak. She hung it on the hook on the back of the door. "I'm guessing you were successful."

Zevran nodded moving across the room to her. "I was. And you?"

She sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close. He shivered again as her damp clothes seeped into his. "Talking. I hate the talking and the politics. Alistair is good at it though. Never at a loss for words that one."

Zevran chuckled pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "This is true in most cases, though I do remember rendering him speechless a few times."

Lyna laughed lifted her head his shoulder, "Yes, but you always asked him about inappropriate and strange things. You and Oghren both. It's like you had a bet going as to which one of you could turn him a brighter shade of red first."

Zevran raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. "In fact there was one such bet, once upon a time."

"Really? How come I never knew this?"

"Because we didn't think it would be fair with Alistair having his little crush on you."

Lyna shrugged and stepped back from him. He immediately missed the heat they had been sharing. "Who won?" She asked moving toward the fire place. She unhooked her bow and swung her quiver from her shoulders.

"Surprisingly it was Wynne."

She laughed as she sat in a rickety wooden chair and unstrung her bow. "Not terribly surprising."

"See that's what I thought too. It's always the ripened women that get you."

"Years of practice of saying the right thing at the right time."

"Precisely."

Zevran watched her lithe form as she stretched her arms above her head. She was like watching a cat. A large lithe hunting cat. Powerful, sleek and always ready. A comfortable silence enveloped them. Zevran sat on the edge of their rented bed observing Lyna as she took off her boots. She stretched her stocking feet toward the fire warming them. Her eyes were nearly glowing in the reflection of the firelight. Her hair a silvery blonde was braided in a single braid she had pulled over her should and was twirling unconsciously around one of her fingers. The silver tattoos etched on her face glittered in swirling dips and drives along the soft contours of her forehead, cheeks and jawline. His fingers twitched as his lips ached to trace every graceful arch.

He had to tell her. He had to tell her soon.

"Lyna?"

She turned her head toward him. A smile splayed upon her full lips. "Yes, Zev?"

He couldn't meet her eyes. They were to hopeful and happy. He didn't want to crush that light. _It's been years since she's been around her clan, maybe it won't be that bad._ Who was he kidding these people were her family and friends. The clan wasn't dead, but they might as well be. The Keeper had been like a mother or grandmother to her, so he had been told. So she had spoken so often of her to him.

"Zevran, what's wrong?" She was on her feet and standing in front of him in an instant. "You weren't hurt were you? Creators! I knew it. I told Oghren I should gone with you."

"No," He shook his head, grasping her hands in his. "I'm fine."

"Then what is plaguing you?"

He stared at her hands. He had never had to do this. He had never delivered news like this to someone her cared about. Someone who meant more to him than his own life. "Lyna," he whispered, rubbing his thumbs across her hands. "Your Keeper is dead."

"What?" She removed one of her hands from his and placed it gently under his chin. She lifted his face so that he could look her directly in the eye. "What did you say?"

He couldn't look away. He forced himself to continue looking into her eyes and face. "The Keeper of your clan is dead."

"How?" Her voice wasn't sharp, but it was ice. She was going to that place she to when she couldn't think her actions where she forced herself not to act. It was one of the reason he had trained her in the arts of being an assassin. She could reach inside and pull out a cold aloofness that rivaled even his. That detachment sometimes frightened him. He worried she would lose herself in it one day. That one day it would just be easier for her to stay lost. He knew the temptation of such a place. Before Lyna, it had been a welcome relief to the life he had lived.

He squeezed her hands and stood up putting her face a hairsbreadth away from his. "I shall tell you everything, my sweet warden, but promise me you will do nothing rash."

She didn't move. Instead she stood in front of him waiting patiently. He squeezed her hands again. "Lyna," He warned lowering his forehead to hers. "Do not do anything rash."

She blinked. "Zevran, I'm waiting to hear what you have to say."

"And I am waiting for you to give me a promise to not be stupid about this."

She started to pull her hands away, but he tightened his grip on them. "I can't and you know it."

She was in commander mode. Zevran loved and hated this side of her. It was a side that had grown on her since becoming Commander of the Grey. He hadn't been present when it had started to emerge, but he had grown use to it. It was a part of her now- this dark unfeeling vortex of practicality and certainty. He told her then. He told everything that had passed in the last seventy-two hours. Afterward, she stood stunned. He still gripped her hands in his.

"Lyna," Zevran released her hands, slipping his arms around her waist. He drew her to him. At first she remained stiff and unyielding; it wasn't until he placed his lips gently and tenderly on hers that she thawed. She kissed him back just as sweetly. He kissed her longer than was probably necessary, but that was beauty of only being with one person, she didn't mind. In fact she enjoyed it as much as him. The causal flirtation, the long passionate stolen kisses, the sweet explorative love making, the open kindness and truthfulness of their feelings and thoughts- he had never truly been loved like this in his life before her. He knew how lucky he was to have this.

So many people in all of Thedas would never possibly feel this. In the Crows he had been a commodity, he was a tool bought and sold to the highest bidder. Once his usefulness was over he would be tossed aside like trash left to rot in some gutter somewhere. No one would have mourned him. No one would have shed a tear for him. People might have pitied him. Or at least their eyes would have watered at the stench of his decaying flesh, but that would have been the only tears he caused. He had known it all those years ago when he first came to Ferelden. But all of that had changed the moment he had opened his eyes and saw her staring down at him with her bright blue eyes and silver tattoos. He had thought a spirit had found him. And in a way the spirit of mercy had. He hadn't known then what would happen how just being around her was exciting and unexpected. How her laugh brightened his days and nights. How he would go out of his way to tease her, to talk to her, to make her smile. When had it become more than lust and desire for a beautiful Dalish? He didn't know.

He hadn't even been aware that he could feel such things. He never had experienced them before. Love, kindness, mercy, compassion, these were foreign words to him. These words were her.

"Zevran?" Her warm breath tickled his lips and sent a shiver of desire sweeping through him.

"Yes, amora?" He snaked a hand up her back and pulled the tie binding her hair. The leather strap slipped easily off.

"I mean to go speak with Merrill. She's in the city. I know she is." She swallowed leaning back to look him in his eyes. "I need to hear it from her."

"What will you do once you learn what you wish to know?" He began to unbraid her hair letting the silkiness of it flow over his fingertips.

Lyna was silence for a moment as she thought. He didn't mind her silence. He knew what he would've done. That was easy, but Lyna hadn't been raised to kill like he had. If he was in Lyna's position he knew that someone would die. But then if he were in Lyna's position he would not have those same instincts.

"I don't know." She whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder. He continued to run his fingers through her hair. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I have been gone for so long from my clan. It's like going home again after a long journey. I feel like I need a long hot bath and a good night's sleep in my own bed."

He could understand that. He had felt that way about going back to Antivia after following her for a year. But Antivia was his childhood home. He missed it like his favorite pair of old boots, once they had become too worn to wear anymore. It was comfortable and familiar, but filled with holes and gave him blisters.

"Come, amora, you can worry about more in the morning. Let us have that hot bath and bed." He suggested letting his fingers caress the tip of her sharply pointed ear. "Of course, in case you were wondering I do have more planned than just sweet kisses." He smiled charmingly at her. "I have missed you these past few days." He turned his face to press a feather light kiss upon the very same ear.

She shivered and a giggle escaped her lips. "Ah, Zev," she purred. "I've missed you too." "Then why are we still standing here?"

"Because you haven't rang the maids to draw a bath yet?"

Zevran laughed.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Dawn across Kirkwall found the city shrouded in gray misty rain. Many of the city's citizens went about their business as if the rain were nothing more than a summer shower soon to past. Forget that it was fall and there was a biting chill premating the wet droplets. But the rain would past as every did in the city.

Anders scratched the stubble on his chin and looked bleary eyed at the scroll one more time. It was possible. He had been reading through piles and piles of books again. All of them eluding to same thing. Some type of Teventier Vault buried deep under the city. It wasn't possible of course, but then he was staring the evidence in the face. The tunnels of the city sewers ran deep but below those were more tunnels- darker and more sinister than human filth carrying ones.

"So what do you think?" The King of Ferelden asked him.

Anders scratched his chin again. He really needed to shave. "I don't know." He snapped. It was more out of habit than anything. He was tired and restless and Justice didn't like that the man in charge of Ferelden was a former Templar. Grant it he was a Grey Warden and friend to his former Commander too. That was the only reason Anders was even bothering to speak to the man across from him. Why he had even bothered to take a look at the documents the king had brought him. Lyna had asked him to meet with the king and go over the documents they had 'happened' upon. His former Commander was the reason he was free from the Circle in Ferelden and why he was free to help other mages in their plight against the Circles.

He stared at the Grey Warden documents trying futile to make more sense of what he was seeing. Anders shook his head. "I've stared at these bloody parchments for several hours now I can't make heads or tails of where to begin. One says start at the beginning for Andraste's sake."

Alistair chuckled and flung his own notes down on the table. "It's dawn already. Maker's breath, I can't believe we've been at this all night."

Anders didn't bother to answer the king. He was too weary to think really. He had closed his clinic early when he had seen who was knocking on his door earlier that night. He had remembered meeting Alistair shortly before Anders became a Grey Warden and he knew the man had a history with mages. What that something was Anders wasn't certain. Lyna had spoken well of the king. At the time that had been good enough for him. There was still something about Alistair rankled Justice.

_It's probably just the Templar training._ Anders thought knowing that Justice would hear him. It was weird to have a one sided conversation in one's own head, but that was the way it seemed to work with Justice. The spirit didn't speak directly to him, but he sensed when it was annoyed or upset by something. And then he fought to keep Justice from taking over his body.

"Well, I'd say breakfast is in order, before we delve back into the forgotten scrolls of ancient Tervinter. What do you say?" Alistair asked standing and stretching his arms above his head.

Anders sighed and stood as well. "It couldn't hurt." Maybe he just needed to take a break come back to the table with a fresh perspective and full stomach.

He glanced warily down at the papers he had just flung down. The parchments were old and yellowed with time, but something about them had caught his eye. He shifted the papers around.

"What are you doing?" Alistair asked looking over the mage's shoulder.

Anders hands moved shifting the papers around. A pattern emerged.

"Holy Andraste's knickers!" Alistair exclaimed.

Anders smiled and stepped back. The papers were arranged in such a way that certain large letters spelled out the words UNDERNEATH THE CITY AWAITS A DARK SECRET. THE PASSAGE AWAITS AT UNDER THE CHANTRY'S CREST.

"Well, that's a subtle message if I've ever seen one." Alistair muttered.

Anders' smile grew. "To you, but I think I know what this means. And if that's the case we are going to need some help." He paused and looked over his shoulder at the King of Ferelden. "Thankfully I know just the people."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"I should kill you." Lyna spat. Her hands drifting toward the knives belted on her hips. Merrill's eyes widened and Varric happened to notice that Merrill's own hand drifted to her knife too. _Good girl, Daisy._ Varric thought. He didn't know this Hero of Ferelden like he knew Merrill. Merrill was a sweet young thing with her heart in the right place. She had made some mistakes, everyone does. He didn't think it was right for this Grey Warden Commander to her small clothes in a knot over it.

"I can't believe you!" Lyna snapped, "Not only did you not listen to the Keeper, you killed her and then I hear you've been messing around with that _mirror!_"

"It's a priceless artifact of our people. We couldn't just abandon it." Merrill whimpered, though Varric did notice her eyes were steady and starting to take on an edge.

Glancing around the room he saw the few people that were left were watching them pretty intently like they were waiting for a bloodbath to start. "Ladies," Varric started but then stopped at a shake of Anders and Alistair's heads.

"I wouldn't try and interfere, Master Storyteller." Alistiar said leaning a bit closer to Varric. "Lyna's not to be trifled with when she's like this. She'll put an arrow through your eye faster than you can talk." Varric didn't think to refute the statement. He could tell the King of Ferelden wasn't fooling around. He knew the Hero of Ferelden better than most. Varric's eyes darted to the blonde elf standing a few paces behind everyone. He wasn't brooding like Fenris. In fact he a genuinely open stance and an easy going smile plastered on his face. But his eyes told a different story. Varric saw in the space of a breath. The fine white scars that crisscrossed his knuckles, the dark swirl of tattoos on his face to the sun kissed skin and fine weapons and armor. This elf had seen more death and rot in the world than his easygoing appearance let on.

"An artifact? Do you even remember what it did to Tamlen? To me? That thing is dangerous! What kind of fool hearty half- baked idea were you…"

"I cleansed it!" Merrill jumped to her feet. Lyna reacted instinctively, her knives flashed as she leapt forward. She pressed the tip of a blade into the soft white flesh of Merrill's throat. Varric was on his feet, Bianca in hand, when he felt the cool demand of metal at his own throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A charmingly accented voice hissed into his ear. "Let's just let the ladies finish what they're doing, such we?" Varric shifted to see Anders and Alistair both sitting on the edge of their chairs. Both glanced back and forth between Varric and Merrill.

"They shouldn't be having this conversation in the middle of the common room of the Hanged Man. Look, the barkeep is getting suspense." Varric commented.

"True, Lyna, doesn't mean to kill her. Otherwise, she already be dead. She wants to rattle her." The voice said removing the blade her Varric's throat as he lowered Bianca. "No hard feelings, my friend, but if you raise a hand to harm her." He lowered is voice- it took on a dark and dangerous tone, like he was trying to scare Varric. "I will kill you. And I won't hesitate."

Varric nodded. He could understand that. "Fair warning, I can appericate that."

"Good as long as we're on the same page."

"Cleansed it!" Lyna shouted. Her knife making Merrill take a step back. The taller elf tripped and stumbled into her chair. Lyna didn't stop she pushed forward, leaning her lither smaller frame forward to bring her face inches from Merrill's. "You contacted a demon to teach you _blood_ magic." Her voice was a whisper Varric had barely caught the words himself. "I should kill you on that principal alone." Merrill was visibly shaking now. Varric even saw that her hands were clenched into fists in her lap.

"Blood magic isn't bad."

Lyna scoffed and retracted her knife. "Unbelievable. Just unbelievable." She took a step back from Merrill and looked around the common room. She must have noticed everyone watching her. "A round of drinks on me!"

The common room cheered as Lyna reached down grabbing hold of Merrill's shirt and yanked her to her feet. "Master Dwarf, Anders told me you keep rooms here, may I borrow them for a couple of minutes?" She turned her bright blue eyes on him. Varric was shocked he had never quite seen eyes like that. Isabela was right elves had pretty eyes.

"Only if I accompany you." He said strapping Bianca to his back. "And as long as you promise to not get blood on the rugs."

"I appreciate it."

Varric took the lead. The two elves following behind him. Both were silent. Varric kept an eye on both from the corner of his eyes. He wanted to be able to help Daisy if as soon as they were away from the common room and the Grey Warden decided to do something drastic. Merrill kept her eyes downcast like she had something interesting on her feet. Lyna walked with her head held high and her eyes focused solely on Merrill. She wasn't one to miss anything though. She moved like a hunter- purposefully and quietly. Something told Varric that this was a woman use to getting her way. This was an elf people looked up to and respected. She was the Hero of Ferelen after all so it did make sense.

Zevran watched Lyna walk away with Merrill and Varric. He was more than certain that Lyna could handle both of them if necessary. She had asked to speak with Merrill alone. Isabela stared after the three as well. Her feet were on the ground and she looked about half ready to start after them.

"Don't, my dear pirate Queen," Zevran warned sheathing his weapons.

Isabela shot him a look. "She isn't going to hurt her?"

Zevran shook his head. "If Lyna wanted Merrill dead she would be." He popped himself down in Merrill's vacated chair. Setting his feet up on the table much in the same manner Isabela like to sit at the table. He surveyed the group. Alistair sat with his arms behind his head, fingers laced together.

"Well, that went better than expected."

"You actually expected that to happen?" Anders asked snagging an extra chair from another table with his foot. He slid the chair over and sat down.

Alistair shrugged. "With Lyna anything can happen."

"True enough."

Zevran crossed his arms and tilted his head back looking back in the direction of the stairs. Varric was coming back toward them.

The dwarf looked crestfallen. Anders must have noticed the look on Varric's face.

"She didn't kill her, did she?"

Varric shook his head and sat down with a thump. "Nope, but she kicked me out. In fact she didn't let me anywhere near them. Close the door right in my face."

Zevran chuckled. "That sounds like her."

"I was hoping from something juicy and gossip worthy. You know something for the history books."

Zevran winked. "You can always make up some delicious little tale of two lost lovers reunited."

"I don't know how Lyna would like that." Anders quipped, but he smiled at Zevran.

"You never know. She doesn't mind the other stories about her." He might have spread some of those stories himself. Lyna seemed to know, but she didn't mind. She just shook her head and laughed.

"That's ridiculous, Zev." She usually kissed him then and he kissed her back.

"Isabela, Varric, Anders has been telling me, that you might be able to help with a little problem that Lyna and I have ran into." Alistair's voice through Zevran's pleasant memories.

"Well, what did, Blondie tell you."

"We need some who knows the underground of Kirkwall. We need people who have a certain skill set." Alistair leaned forward locking eyes with the pirate and storyteller. "Oh course, as the king of Ferelden I would compensate you handsomely."

"I'll say." Isabela stated teasingly leaning across the table and show off her one of her certain skill assets.

"So you're in?" Alistair asked his eyes darting quickly to Isabela chest and then quickly away. Zevran covered his mouth with a hand, stifling the chuckle that wished to escape his lips. He really wanted to say something, but at this moment it wouldn't right. Or would it? He opened his mouth to reply just as a door slammed closed from upstairs.

Zevran canted his head just in time to see Lyna storming down the stairs. Her bright eyes were alight. She stormed pass the table without even bothering to stop. Zevran stood up and started after her. She paused just as she reached the door. Zevran stood behind a hand outstretched to grab her arm.

"Alistair!" Lyna called to the king.

"Yes, Lyna?" Alistair asked an eyebrow raise.

"I'm assuming that you and Anders have deciphered those scrolls. We leave at dawn." With that she turned back to the door and walked out of the Hanged Man.

Zevran didn't waste any time he went after her.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**_"I should kill you."_

Lyna stared out the window of her and Zevran room. The sun wasn't up yet, but her mind wasn't letting her sleep. Between Merrill and the Grey Wardens her mind was to occupied with what morning would bring. She couldn't drag Alistair into the dark bowels of the city. He needed to stay up on the surface and distract the Champion of Kirkwall and the Chantry. If what those scrolls eluded to was true than the foundation of Thedas was about to be shattered.

Arms encircled her waist and a warm puff of breath tickled her neck. "Couldn't sleep." Zevran asked lightly kissing her neck. She shivered with the touch.

"Just thinking."

"About Merrill and what the Grey Wardens need you to do?"

"Of course." She smiled faintly and leaned her back, resting it against his bare shoulder.

"I could still kill someone if you like." Zevran squeezed his arms.

"No, as tempting as the offer is." She turned in his arms. "Though I do appreciate it." She kissed him lightly on the mouth. "You don't have to come with me. You can stay here in the city. See some of the sights without having to worry about looking other your shoulder."

Zevran shook his head. "Amora," he reached up and brushed a lock of pale hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek and jaw. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Good to know, I guess." She kissed him.

Mural was beautiful. A golden city shining in a cloud filled blue sky. Lyna took a step back afraid she would tarnish the mosaic. She moved around the edge her eyes following the picture as it rapidly changed from a scene peace to a one of destruction. The sky blackened and turned sickly green and filled with noxious looking clouds. In the last part of the mural dark winged creatures flew from the once golden city- now turned black.

"Dragons!" Varric whispered as he knelt down to examine the mural a bit closer. Lyna didn't bother to look up. The group had been travelling the depths of the city since dawn. She was tired and irritable. So far they haven't found anything except traps, bones, dirt and more traps. This room and pestle was the only thing they had found.

"Appears that way." The picture changed again she tilted her head at the last picture and then leaned forward to see it a bit closer. Forms that looked like hooded and cloaked mages casting some sort of spell, but right next to those were hunched and deformed images. The creatures eyes burned into her. She could hear their voices in concert whispers. A shudder pasted through her. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she bit her bottom lip.

"Darkspawn." Merrill whispered right next to her. And the other reason Lyna was upset. Merrill had all but pleaded to go with them. She wanted to help. She wanted to make it up to Lyna. There was nothing to be made up. She could never undo what she had done. Lyna was done with her past. She had left the Dalish behind. Then way did the Keeper's death hurt so much? Why did Merrill using blood magic bother her? And her rebuilding the Eluvian?! She had more than a few words on that as well.

"Do you hear that?" Lyna whispered into the air. Was that singing? And where was it coming from? Her voice trembled slightly. Her eyes remained glued to the last picture. A droplet of sweat ran down the side of her lovely dirty face.

"No," Merrill said as Varric shakes his head.

Anders nods. "It sounds like singing. Justice doesn't like it. It's agitating him."

Lyna licked her lips and pulled her eyes away from the mural to stare at Zevran, who stood behind. The former Crow placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't hear anything? Nothing at all?" Lyna's brow crinkled with concern as Zevran shook his head as well.

"No, amora, nothing."

"That's not a good sound then I'm guessing." Varric stated. Wiping his hands on his pants he stood up. "This probably means we should leave it alone and get out of here. Sorry, it looks like a dead end."

Lyna didn't response. Instead she stepped over the mural on the floor and up to the pestle in the middle of the room.

Anders grabbed his head and doubled over. "No, no, no!" he shouted pulling at his hair. "It's happening again. Much louder. I don't know if I can contain Justice for much longer."

Varric had seen this before. When Hawke, Fenris, himself and Anders had made the trek to Coreyphus prison a few months back. Anders had heard something and lost control of Justice then too. This wasn't a good sign.

"Lyna?" Zevran adventured starting toward her. She held up a hand, stopping him.

"Stay back." Her voice was strange distant and distorted. Not completely her own. "Stay back, assassin. If you value this woman's life."

Varric took a step back and placed his hand on the elf's forearm. Zevran was tense like a spring ready to snap. "Don't. I've seen this before or something similar to it."

"You have?"

"Yes, just don't try and stop whatever it is. Otherwise, your Warden is as good as dead."

"Warden? What a strange title for this little elfling." Lyna said looking down at her body like it couldn't quite make out what it was seeing. "This little thing is a guard of something. So strange. My the times have changed."

"Who are you?" Zevran asked pulling his arm away from Varric.

"Me, I am that which should not be, but am. I am a prisoner of this place. But I am also freer than any of you. I've see the Golden City, but it was a lie. A Blackened heart rules there. It is not the city of dreams, but nightmares. What do you want here? Why disrupt that which has no need to be?" Lyna turned then. Her beautiful blue eyes were solid white. Her irises were gone. Anders let out a cry of pain and dropped to his knees still clutching his head.

"Don't let it speak!" He yelled through clenched teeth. Merrill knelt down beside him. She placed an arm around his shoulders. "It's voice is poison and it will melt the flesh from your bones."

"Don't be silly, Anders," Merrill tried to soothe him, but the mage was having none of it.

Varric turned his attention back to Lyna. He couldn't help Anders any more than he could help Lyna it seemed.

"That one has touched darkness in more ways than one." Lyna pointed and Anders screamed again. "Creature of the Fade you have changed your stars. The heavens are blackened and burned for you. It does not weep for its lost child. It merely wishes to sleep in peace."

"What are we going to do?" Zevran asked lowering his voice just so Varric could hear him.

"I don't know, Crow, I don't know."

Zevran's hand tightened on the pommels of his daggers. "I'm not losing her, Varric. Not to something like this."

"Well, then I suggest we bloody well show that thing the map out of her body, or she might as well be gone."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Zevran wanted to believe that Varric and the others would be able to drive the spirit out of Lyna, but he wasn't so certain. Lyna was an experienced and cunning fighter. If the group thought she was simply an archer than they would be sadly mistaken. He knew she could use those daggers strapped to her back as easily as she could her bow. He had trained her personally and she had surpassed the master.

Drawing his own weapons he watched as Merrill started chanting. A silver blade pressed to the chirper elf's palm. She slipped the blade across her pale flesh, a bead of red following the silver flash. The droplets of blood started to glow. Zevran shivered and turned his eyed away. He normally didn't oppose blood magic, but used against Lyna…it was another story. He didn't like the idea of even a supposed friend trying to control her. And their opponent was an unknown entity who had taken up resident inside Lyna. Who knew what powers it possessed?

"Merrill, don't!" He warned too late, the little mage completed her spell and flung out her hand speckling glowing droplets of blood at Lyna.

A thin unamused smile stretched across Lyna's face. "Foolish little mageling." Lyna raised a hand and flicked it. Merrill lifted by an invisible hand flew several feet across the room and into the wall. She hit the stone with a sickening crack.

"Daisy!" Varric yelled, leveling his crossbow at Lyna. The dwarf fired his weapon.

The bolt flew toward Lyna in a straight unerring line. Darted forward moving behind the projectile. Lyna turned to face him, raising a hand. The bolt stopped mid-flight. A few scant inches from piercing her palm. She looked curiously at the object before flicking her hand again, sending the bolt spiraling into the nearest wall. Her eyes never leaving that of Varric's. Zevran caught her around the waist at a run. She was small and light, his momentum carried both of them to the ground, as another bolt whistled over their heads.

Hitting the ground with such force knocked the air out of Zevran's lungs and he gasped. Lyna growled as he pinned her hands under his knees, applying as much of his body weight as he could to her wrist.

"Insolent peasant! How dare you?" Her voice was low and harsh.

"Oh, I dare." Zevran said once he could find the air to speak. Lyna started squirming under him.

Not that he didn't mind the moving, but he much preferred when it was in pleasure and of her own violation. "Realse me!"

"You first, my dear." Zevran cooed pressing a blade to Lyna's throat. Her white eyes darted up and down.

"Filthy weakling."

"Yet, it is you that's can't move." He smirked as he sat up a little bringing his other blade to prick her in the side. "I could end that body you are inhabiting in a few seconds. What would that do to you, I wonder? Something tells me that you need her to walk out of here. But I wonder what happens if she dies?"

Lyna's eyes widened. "You wouldn't kill this woman. She's precious to you." She laughed, a shrill hollow sound. "You need her as much as I do."

"That's where you are wrong." He pressed his blades a little harder drawing a thin red bead from Lyna's neck. "I don't need her. I desire her, but I don't need her. And I know that she would rather die than be subject to the whims of what ever being you are."

"Then you would have already slit my throat if that was the case."

"I didn't say I wasn't reasonable." Zevran leaned his mouth to her ear. His breath tickling it. "I propose a trade. Her life for yours. Get out of her body and you'll live in whatever existence you had before, or…" He trailed off letting his words sink in.

"This body is tainted with the blood of the Black City. She is mine! It was written! She is mine!" The spirit spat.

Zevran's heart lurched. He knew what Lyna would truly want him to do. He had been bluffing though. He wasn't certain he could kill her. They had talked about it. Talked about when the Calling came and she headed to the Deep Roads if he would then if she was too far gone to stop her from losing herself completely. She wanted to be buried with a tree over her grave.

Could he?

_Yes, I would rather her die than live like this. And so would she._ Lyna wanted to die to be as much of herself when she died as she could. This being was taking that from her. She started to move again. Snapping and growling at him like a wild one. He held her, though he did manage to knick her throat and side with his blades.

"Lyna!" Zevran yelled, trying one last desperate ploy. "I know you're still there. My sweet Warden, come back to me." He whispered the last words letting his concern and fear lace his words.

She squirmed more. "Your Warden is lost!" She laughed at the look of his face.

"No, I don't believe you. Otherwise you would have killed me already." Zevran stated. If this being had access to Lyna's memories and it was possible that Lyna could be drawn forth by someone he was it. The logical choice would have been to eliminate Zevran first. It made sense. He was the biggest threat to the being losing its host.

Instead the being had tried to leave.

"You're still in there." He whispered bringing his face inches away from hers. "And I think whatever are knows it too."

He closed the distance between them, kissing her passionately.

Lyna jerked. Her back arched awkwardly under him. Then she relaxed and was kissing him back. Zevran broke the kiss and slowly removed his blades from her throat and sides. "Lyna?"

She nodded looking back toward the pestle. "I can't touch it while it's on the pestle. Varric, there is a hidden cache at the base. Inside is what we have been seeking." Her eyes flickered back up to Zevran. "It's not good news." She hissed.


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Lyna stood on the rocky outcrop looking out over the vast valley below her. Snow covered the valley floor and rained in little white dots around them. She huddled deeper into her cloak. She had never really liked the cold. And this was a bone deep cold that penetrated every layer she was wearing.

But the snow was slowing down on the horizon she could see the sun rising. The sun's rays pushing themselves through the thick gray clouds transforming the sky into molten gold and orange. She squinted her eyes wanting to watch until the last possible moment. It was beautiful even this far north.

"Breathtaking," Zevran breathed next to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist letting her snuggle a bit closer to him. She relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It is, isn't it?"

"You're not worried about meeting the Wardens from Weissupt?" He asked suddenly.

She hadn't expected him to ask that kind of question at the moment. "No," She wasn't afraid at all. The information she carried in the satchel she wore almost continuously was beyond important. The Grey Warden leaders would have to see that. She wouldn't leave until they saw it. All of it. She still couldn't believe it. She knew more than she had ever thought to know. About the darkspawn, about her people, about dragons, and about Andraste. Even the Creators were mentioned. The mage the dairy had belonged to had been some type of scholar/researcher. He wrote down everything and anything.

The Wardens needed to know what this book contained. That was at least the first step after that…she tilted her head back looking at Zevran's face. After that it was whenever they were needed they would go.

"Zevran?"

"Yes, amora?"

She turned completely facing him. She looked into his golden eyes, almost glowing in the light of the rising sun. She smiled and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close. "We're about to change the world."

He squeezed her back. "I know and I'll be there every step of the way with you."

"Good. Zev?"

He chuckled. "Yes, amora?"

"Kiss me."

"With pleasure."


End file.
